


I Call Shotgun

by mtn_dew_red



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz (Two River Cast) Actor RPF, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Boys Kissing, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Gay Michael Mell, Gentle Kissing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Michael Mell Smokes Marijuana, No Angst, No Smut, Post-Canon, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, based on the scene in be less single, because that was hot, this is purely self indulgent, where michael and jeremy shotgun weed together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtn_dew_red/pseuds/mtn_dew_red
Summary: Jeremy and Michael get stoned in the latter's basement... with a twist.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	I Call Shotgun

When I head downstairs to Michael’s room, it’s pitch black. I cling to the wall so I don’t fall down the stairs. Is that Michael’s plan? He wants to watch me fall down the stairs? Ever since the whole ‘incident’ at the school play, he’s been a bit distant. We’re both trying our hardest to get our friendship back like it used to be… but you can’t just move on from that kind of thing. I basically disowned him for months in pursuit of popularity. However, when he invited me over to play video games with him, just like old times, I couldn’t resist. Perhaps this was the start of a new chapter in our unbreakable friendship? 

“Michael, what the fuck?” I called out into the endless black void that was Michael’s basement room. Jesus Christ, the least he could do was turn on the lights before I came down here. I can’t see my own hand a foot in front of my face, and my eyes haven’t quite adjusted yet. “I didn’t know your room was an Abercrombie. Isn’t that a little mainstream for you?”

No reply comes from the darkness, and I quirk an inquisitive brow. He is… down here, right? It’d be embarrassing to find out I’m talking to no one down here. “Yes,” says SQUIP, apparating in front of me and glowing a bright blue. Great. Now, at least I can see one thing in this infernal darkness. “He’s going to jump out and scare you,” It continues, “But I suggest you let him have his fun.”

I give a small, affirmative nod. Right. I’ll try to look-

“BOO, BITCH!” Michael yells, flipping the lights on and jumping out to scare me. I reflexively recoil, jumping a little and letting out a scream. Well, I think I convinced him. SQUIP rolls its eyes beside me. “Yes, that’s why the play went so well; Your stellar acting skills.” I mentally curse it out. Shut up, you damn thing. I just didn’t expect him to come from behind the TV. And, in what universe did the play go well? 

SQUIP doesn’t give me a response, and just points to Michael with a well-placed eye roll. “Did it work? I was trying to scare the SQUIP out of you.” Michael explains, giving me a sort of half-smile. It’s warm; familiar. I haven’t seen a genuine smile like that from him in ages. I punch his arm playfully, careful not to cross the line this early in rekindling our friendship. “It’s a computer, not the hiccups.”

Michael gives a shrug, bending one of his knees and cocking his hip out, hands in his hoodie pocket. “Eh, tomato, to-mah-to.” I squint my eyes at him. “No, to-may-to. Who pronounces it to-mah-to?... This isn’t the point. Why did you scare me again?” He shrugs once more, a little too overdramatically as his shoulders bounce and then slump. He picks at a loose thread on one of the patches adorning his hoodie. “Felt like it. Do I need a reason to want to laugh at you?”

I grimace and punch him lightly in the shoulder. He gives me a playful smile. “Come on, you can hit me harder than that. I punched you by accident and gave you a nosebleed earlier today, my dude.” I narrow my eyes, clicking my tongue. Guess I forgot about that. He didn’t mean to, of course, but still… this isn’t the first time he’s danced so hard he’s nearly broken my nose in the school hallway. “Do you really want me to actually hit you? Because I can, and frankly? You’re kinda making me want to.”

Michael sighs. “Go for it. I got my shot at you this morning.” 

I nod. I mean, he’s literally asking for it. And I’m not going to go for his face or anything. Biting my lip, I lunged at him and thrust my fist towards Michael’s stomach. I make contact, and Michael gives a small ‘Oomf’ noise. He goes silent, staring at me incredulously. He snorts a little, chuckling softly to himself, much to my bewilderment. “Is that seriously all you’ve got? All that hanging out with the jocks, and you still couldn’t put any muscle on your toothpick arms? I think you got ripped off, Jere.”

I look guilty for a moment, trying to make up an excuse. “Well, I didn’t want to actually hurt you…” Michael laughs, shaking his head. He runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, that fucking pill could have at least made you stronger, instead of just making you a massive douchebag.” Michael continues snickering, but it quickly fades out of my ears as I grimace and clench my chest, feeling the black hole of guilt opening up again. How am I ever going to move on from my mistake if being around Michael makes me feel like this?

“Yeah, yeah, I know… lay off.” I reply, rubbing my arm with my hand guiltily. Michael nods towards the bean bags sitting in front of his TV, red and blue, respectively. “You gonna come sit down, or what?” He asks. I press my lips together in thought. “Is that a trick question?” 

I plop down onto my seat, and I look up at Michael. “So… you never told me what exactly we’re doing here.” An easy grin spreads across Michael’s face as he sits down next to me, and he wrings his hands together like a mad scientist. I brace for the worst. “First things first, I got us slushies.” He turns around and produces two 7/11 slushie cups, handing one to me. I look down at it, making a face. Goddamn it, Michael. “Aw, is this a fucking coke slushie?... What part of ‘Blue Raspberry’ don’t you understand?...” 

He shrugs, taking a sip of his cherry drink. “Machine was out. No blue slushies for you- or for anyone else- but especially you.”

I grimace, setting it down. “I literally cannot drink this. It’ll melt my organs. Like… acid or something.” Michael half-smirks, leaning back in his chair and allowing himself to sink into it lazily. “Maybe you’ll change your mind when you get the munchies.”

I eye him suspiciously, and he flashes me a cocky grin. “...Is that part two?” He gives a small chuckle, pulling a sandwich bag out of the pocket of his hoodie, filled with a generous amount of little green nuggets. He winks at me. “You fucking know it, baby.” 

I smile at him, sighing a little at the familiarity of it all. “What’s the occasion?” I bump his shoulder affectionately, and he groans a bit and avoids my gaze. “Don’t make me say it. I’m not getting that mushy until the weed kicks in.” He complains, opening the bag and inhaling. He smiles lazily. I swear, if Yankee made weed-scented candles, Michael would buy them in a heartbeat. “You missed me!” I grip his arm, teasing him a little without pushing boundaries. “Mikey, did you miss me lots and lots?” I bat my eyelids, and he looks at me, annoyed. 

“You know, I don’t have to share my weed… I think it would be pretty fun to just enjoy this all by myself.” He takes another sip of his slushie, sticking his now bright red tongue out at me. “Yeah, right,” I rolls my eyes at him. “I’m pretty sure if you tried, I wouldn’t see you until next week.” 

He shakes his head at me. “Yolo, am I right?”

I sigh in disappointment. “I swear to god, I will leave this basement.” I groan, not in the mood for Michael’s severely out-of-date meme culture. He produces blunt paper from his pockets, and I can’t help but wonder just how much shit he keeps in there on a daily basis. “Jere, please just shut up and help me roll this.” I concede, leaning over to help him. As we work, I can’t help but wonder if this is going to affect the SQUIP at all. “Thanks for the concern.” SQUIP says, suddenly speaking up. Damn thing. I don’t, like, care or anything. I’m just making sure that taking a hit won’t make my head explode. SQUIP shrugs, looking cocky. “I’m just going to shut off and save you the satisfaction of having your question answered.”

Works for me. Michael lights up beside me as I feel the SQUIP shut off. I swear, the rare moment of quiet in my head will get me high before I can even touch the weed. He looks concerned. “Were you just talking to it?” He asks, his brows knitting. I nod. “Yeah. It’s being a dick, but it’s gone now. Well, not gone. Sort of gone. Off. It does that when I drink or get high.”

Michael nods, seemingly taking note of that. “...Huh. Great. Tell me when it’s back on so I can flip it off.” He takes a drag from his blunt, holding it in for a moment before exhaling. “You know. Or kill it. Still offering to do that.” 

I don’t think I have a good response for that right now. So, instead, I just take Michael’s lighter from him and try to relax. I take my first hit, tucking the joint between my lips and pulling in a deep breath. Hold it… hold it… don’t choke in front of Michael. It’s been a while, but you’ve got this… don’t- 

I let out a slight cough, and try to cover it with a loud exhale. Michael raises an incredulous eyebrow. Shit, I’m caught. “You good, buddy?” He asks. I nod a little too quickly. “Yep. Uh, tickle in my throat. That’s all.” Michael smirks at me, shaking his head. “Whatever you say. I’d hate to find out that tic tac made you so much of a pussy you can’t handle a little weed anymore.”

I groan internally. Not now… I’m smoking to forget all that shit. Why does he have to keep bringing it up like this? I know on some level I deserve it, but… it’s too much. I shake it off and take another hit. I can already feel my head swimming a little bit. It makes me slightly dizzy, but in a pleasant way. Kinda like when Michael does that thing where he stretches his arms and his sweatshirt rides up…

Shit. That’s another off-limits thought. One more hit.

Huh, I wonder what my dad would think about this? I know we’re both supposed to be making better choices, and I think Michael is a better choice… even if the weed isn’t. He’s not dumb, he has to know what we do together, right? What else could the smell on my sweater be? Incense? I take one last pull at the joint, rolling the end of it between my fingers as I hold my breath. Immediately, it catches in my throat and I start sputtering all over the place, pounding at my chest to get the coughing fit to stop as tears stream from my eyes. 

Michael laughs, taking the blunt back from me and taking a long drag. “Oh, my God. Stop dying. Or, die quietly.” It takes another few seconds for the coughing to stop. Even after it does, I’m too winded to respond right away. Michael shakes his head, blowing out smoke. “Yikes. Yeah, I think that’s enough for you; I’m cutting you off. It would look pretty bad if you died on my watch right now.” I frown, still shaking the tickle from my throat and lungs. “Hey! It won’t happen again- I’m fine! I’m not even that high yet…”

Michael shrugs, taking another hit. “‘Snot my fault. Guess you just won’t get high. Unless you want to fucking shotgun or something.” I sigh dreamily. Oh my god, I do. I really do. I open my mouth before I can think better of it. 

“Yes, please.”

Michael looks somewhat shocked, and the air goes still. I watch the smoke from the joint in Michael’s fingers rise into the air and dissipate. “Um…” He hums, raising an eyebrow at me. “...’Yes please’ what?...” He looks confused for a moment, taking another drag before realization paints his face, and he chokes on his cloud. “Wait… you want to shotgun? Are you fucking serious?”

My heart drops into my stomach. “Uh…” I stammer, feeling my palms begin to sweat a little. “You’re the one who offered! I’m just taking you up on it.” I defend myself, crossing my arms as I sink into the beanbag chair. Michael’s gaze softens like it would if he were talking to a small child. “Jere, I was joking.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

I clear my throat, trying to appear confident as I internally freak out. Wrong move, Heere. “Well, I’m… not?” I say, sounding somewhat uncertain. Michael huffs. “You sure about that?” He asks. I nod maybe a little too aggressively, trying to find my composure. “Totally.” He looks… annoyed. He doesn’t think I’m trying to, like, flirt with him or anything, does he? In a moment it’s gone, and he looks me in the eye, face completely deadpan. He nods, giving a big sigh. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

I nod in response, echoing him with “Let’s… do it.” and puffing out my chest a little. Be confident, Jeremy. You’ve got this. “Two bros. Getting high. Nothing wrong with that.” To which Michael groans, pursing his lips as he rolls the joint back and forth between his fingers. Bits of ash fall onto his black jeans, still glowing a bit. He pats them out carefully. “Don’t make it weird.”

I shrug, feeling pleasantly dizzy as the weed takes effect. “Sorry. I think it’s kicking in already.” Michael snorts and leans closer to me. “Yeah. I can tell.” I get off of my beanbag and scoot my ass across the floor until I’m right in front of Michael. I lean forward a bit to get closer, and I’m all too aware of my heart thumping in my chest. He takes a long drag from his joint before leaning in close to my face. He hesitates a little too far away. Close enough for me to feel my own temperature rising, but far enough that when he exhales, most of the smoke travels away from me. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask, careful. “Because… we have to get closer than that, I’m not getting anything over here.”

He clears his throat and shakes the tension out of his shoulders. “Yep. Yeah. I’m good. I just haven’t done this before.” He explains, and I look at him with an air of understanding. “You sure? Because we can-” He interrupts me before I can finish with “It’s fine.” I nod, deciding it’s best not to push my luck from here on out. The last thing I need is Michael getting uncomfortable with me. He brings the joint to his lips again, and breathes in. He holds it for a second, then beckons me close, and I bring my face right up next to his. 

Michael exhales, and I let the smoke waft slowly into my mouth. His breath is hot on my face, and there’s an odd sweetness on my tongue as I take it in. Butterflies begin to start up within my stomach and chest, and I can feel my face heat up and undoubtedly grow slightly pink. Michael looks at me lazily. “Did that work?” Oh man… Michael. Oh no. This… oh no. I swallow and try to calm my rushing head. There’s no reason I should be reacting like this. I mean, unless I...

Shit. 

Michael waves his hand in front of my face, trying to get me to snap out of it. “Jeremy? Jeremy Heere? Earth to Jerm…”

Right. Respond. 

“Good. It was good.” I stumble out, probably looking more flustered than I have in my entire life. Michael winks at me, nudging my side with his elbow. “That’s what she said.” He snorts at his own joke before looking at me earnestly. “Alright, you ready to go again? Or was that too much for you?” He asks, looking concerned. I’m partially grateful for that as I shake my head. “No! Let’s… let’s go again.” I say, not quite wanting this to end just yet. Michael gives a short nod before smiling at me. “Sure thing.” 

He looks off to the side as he takes another drag. Is… there a reason he doesn’t want to look at me? Can he tell? Whatever it is, he hides it well as he leans in. He… might be a little too far away again. Should I?... 

I lean in a little closer, to the point where I can almost feel the heat of Michael’s skin. Almost. He breathes out and I inhale deeply, catching all of the smoke and letting it travel towards my mouth like a sweet whisper. I close my eyes as I breathe out, giving in and letting the pleasure of being so close to him wash over me. I may be absolutely fucked, but the moment is… nice. So I just let it stay that way. Michael looks concerned. “You good?” 

I nod lazily, sounding thoroughly wasted as I hum in response. Michael smiles. “Sleepy?” He asks. I let my eyes snap open. Whoops. “Nah, just… relaxed.” I drawl, voice hoarse and very much stoner-like. Michael smirks. “Cool. Just remember, it’s a school night, so you can’t stay over if you fall asleep on me.” 

I frown a little in protest. “I’m not sleepy!” I chuckle, shoving his shoulder a little to get my point across. He laughs and raises his hands up in defeat, and my eyes can’t help but drift down and watch as his sweatshirt rides up, a strip of tan skin exposed as the fabric is moved. It’s such a simple, innocent thing, and yet I feel my face grow warm. Michael doesn’t seem to notice, though. He’s watching tiny smoke particles drift through the air and up to the ceiling. 

“You know, it’s weird.” He says, his voice sounding utterly relaxed and smoothe. Like butter, almost. A sort of drawl that I only got to hear when the both of us were stoned. I loved that voice, as much as I hated to admit it to myself. “The last time I got high, your dad was here and he wasn’t wearing pants.” He continues, the words losing their meaning as they bounce around my skull. My head is rushing, and yet I feel totally at ease. That’s weed for you. 

I shake my head and give a laugh. “That’s not even weird, that’s just a regular day in the Heere household.” I explain. Michael chuckles, and I can feel as his breath hits my face, warm and sweet and smelling of weed. It’s intoxicating, and I can help the blush that creeps up my cheeks and the tips of my ears. Michael seems to take note, as he pokes my shoulder. “Hey, Jere? You good? ‘Cause you’re starting to look a little… flushed?”

I hum, not really processing the words as my eyes stare down at Michael’s lips. He had nice lips- that was something I’d of course noticed before, but never really paid much attention to. He’s dead silent, wringing his hands in his lap, all playful high emotions gone from his face in an instant. “Jeremy, seriously, you okay?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. I look up at him, pupils blown from the drug and most likely swimming with something that Michael can’t quite place, because he gives me an odd look. He swallows before looking away at the ground. 

I scoot a bit closer to him as he takes a hit from his joint, and when he turns back to face me, we’re nearly nose-to-nose. He looks a bit startled as he chokes on his cloud. He exhales into my face, and I breathe it in lazily. When the smoke dissipates, he’s looking at me with a new sort of gaze I can’t really decipher. It’s lax. His eyes are half-lidded and scanning my face, and I can swear I see him blushing, too, but that might just be my high mind searching for affirmation. He clears his throat before taking another hit, and I find myself acting before I can think better of it when he pulls the joint away from his lips. 

I pull on the collar of his sweatshirt, leaning in and closing the almost nonexistent gap between us, the smoke getting caught between our lips as I kiss him. He’s startled for a moment, eyes going wide at the suddenness of it all, but his eyes soon slip shut, kissing me back hesitantly. I slip my eyes open by just a fraction, watching as the smoke slips from the corners of our mouths, rising into the air. That simple detail makes my heart absolutely flutter. God, I’m so fucked. 

He places a hand to the side of my face, joint still laced between his fingers but thankfully pointed away from me. After a few more seconds, he pulls away, the last of the smoke rising into the air as he blows it out. He’s panting, and I can’t decide if it’s from arousal or oxygen deprivation. Probably the latter. He laughs weakly. “Hell of a shotgun.” He says, and I can feel my heart hammer against my ribcage as I nod. He clears his throat. “God, you’re so high.” 

“I know.” I say, rubbing the back of my neck and blushing at the floor. 

“Wanna go again?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! This is super old but i figured id post it bc y not. id love actual like- prompts for boyf riends fics if you could give em to me :)) ty!!


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